| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| T. Campbell |
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| CXCVII. The Maid of Neidpath |
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| EARL MARCH look'd on his dying child, | |
| And, smit with grief to view her— | |
| The youth, he cried, whom I exiled | |
| Shall be restored to woo her. | |
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| She's at the window many an hour | 5 |
| His coming to discover; | |
| And he look'd up to Ellen's bower, | |
| And she look'd on her lover. | |
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| But ah! so pale, he knew her not, | |
| Though her smile on him was dwelling. | 10 |
| "And am I then forgot—forgot?" | |
| It broke the heart of Ellen. | |
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| In vain he weeps, in vain he sighs, | |
| Her cheek is cold as ashes; | |
| Nor love's own kiss shall wake those eyes | 15 |
| To lift their silken lashes. | |
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